


Thorin Oakenshield: Durin's Golden Daughter

by skysonfire



Series: Richard Armitage [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: An Unexpected Journey, Desolation of Smaug, F/M, I'm Sorry Tolkien, One Shot Collection, Smut with a Story, Thorin Porn, battle of the five armies, durinsgoldendaughter.tumblr.com, fiery-fics-and-bits.tumblr.com, porn with a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire





	Thorin Oakenshield: Durin's Golden Daughter

The dreams come often. Dreams of a time I never knew, in a place I’ve never been. It’s always when we’re huddled in the dark, along some windy pass, or a rainy valley. Sometimes they come when we are high in the fells or amid the dark shadows of a hidden forest. I can hear his breathing change when sleep takes him and I follow into the dream where I know he’s waiting and longing.

In the shining, geometric kingdom of Erebor, the sovereign chambers are secreted behind polished rock passages veined with bloodstone. My feet are always bare and they strike softly along the cool floor, the satin of my long dress swimming against my ankles like the beating wings of a luna moth. The crown, newly placed on my head, presses heavy engraved runes against my flesh.

There is a fountain obstructing direct passage to the solar and I stop to watch the silent waters as they cascade over golden bowls, dappled with diamonds that reflect the dancing streams and throw shining shadows along the walls. I sit on the lip of the bottom-most basin and dip my fingers into the cool spring. It feels soft, and I move my hand just under the surface, letting my eyes take in the shifting distortions, the illusions that the water brings. I don’t yet know that I’m sleeping - not until I hear his advance.

He is always the same - dark and blue. The silver in his shaded hair is gone - present instead on his large ornamented belt, his bracers, boot covers and hair beads. It is threaded across the hem of his fur-lined cloak, and it glints on the large rings he wears on his strong hands. His beard is cut close and his eyes glow like a star-studded twilight. He is so young, and it makes me wonder about my own face.

“This is a dream,” I whisper, as he sits close to me on the basin.

“It is the future’s dream of the past,” he says, his eyes searching for me, somewhere that he cannot reach.

When he takes me with his kiss, his lips are a building fury that sparks in me an unrelenting requisite, and I hoist myself onto him, my knees touching the water’s surface. He pushes the satin up my thighs before he grabs at the back of my hair with both hands. I can feel the fine leather of his bracers rub along my neck. I pulse hard for him and I fight at his tunic to wrench at the laces on his breeches. He is so timed against my impulsive frenzy.

Please don’t let it end now, I think.

He grips at my small waist, and when I guide him inside, my desire easing his way, there is a burning spread that overtakes me like the affect of a fiery libation at the back of the throat.

I buck against him without reserve and moan his name as he bites gently at my ear. “I wish you could see the crown you wear,” he breathes, and I think about the runes wicking against my damping brow, but I already know what they say:

Durin’s Golden Daughter: Queen Under the Mountain.


End file.
